


The Empty

by LillaJoba



Series: The Empty [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Season/Series 12, The Empty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillaJoba/pseuds/LillaJoba
Summary: How is something unknown and empty supposed to look like? Jack will soon find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing Jack fics, even though we don't know anything about him yet. And I love (and need) fix it fics. Hope you enjoy!

The bunker was dead quiet, yet all three inhabitants knew none of them were asleep. Jack was lying, flat on his back, on the bed the boys had given him in the bunker. Angels may not need to sleep, but Nephilim certainly do, although he wasn’t doing the best job at that point. He was staring at a crack in the ceiling, eyes glowing gold. The first night in the bunker he wasn’t as vary of everything, but now he realised what the brothers thought of him, and he knew he was not planning to fall asleep. At least one person, mere seconds away from his room, wanted him gone, and that was not exactly material for a good night’s sleep. Not that Jack blamed him, but still, he wasn’t prepared to give up on the short life he’s had up to that point.

There was no audible music from Jack’s perspective, no sounds of a tv, no nothing, but he knew the older Winchester was probably the most awake out of the three of them, doing whatever, being kept from rest by anger and hate and grief and caution. Caution against Jack. Sam was likely either researching on all of it, although the more likely possibility was that he was in his bed, trying to sleep, but couldn’t. Jack didn’t really know them, but he felt strangely like he understood them in a way. Whether it was the vibes he sensed off of them, a sensation he assumed equated to his half angel heritage, although how would he know? He never experienced complete human life. The feeling set off by the brother’s was more emotive rather than intellectual, and it felt in a weird way like the understanding of them didn’t belong to him. Like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, and he didn’t even know why he stayed with them, but he did. One of them obviously wanted him dead, but there he was, “sleeping” in one of the bunker’s beds. But no, he was not going to sleep. He couldn’t. But this mantra he kept repeating didn’t stop his eyelids from feeling like lead, didn’t stop his eyes, which he kept glowing randomly in hopes of keeping up the interest in the room, from reverting back to their natural blue colour. It didn't stop him letting them eventually fall shut, or him waking up in someplace other than the bunker.

Or was he awake? Of course, he didn’t think too much about it at that point. The room or place he was in was strangely dreamlike, but he knew if it was fully a dream he was in, he wouldn’t recognise it as such. He was lying down, but he only knew it due to the horizontal view he had, although he didn’t quite know how he knew it was horizontal. There was nothing in the room to identify anything by. He couldn’t feel his body, only knew he even had one because he could see his hands and feet when looking down. He couldn’t feel what he was standing on now, he hardly notice that he’d actually stood up. It didn’t take any energy and despite knowing he had fallen asleep prior to all of this, he didn’t feel tired. The place was….he didn’t really know how to describe it. It was like describing where the bubble that burst during the big bang was, before the universe was created. It wasn’t a white canvas, but it wasn’t dark either. It couldn’t exactly be translucent as there was nothing to look through at. It was like he was the only thing there was, like the whole world was inside him, not able to see anything, but knowing he had eyes. It was simply because there was nothing to see. Not like closing your eyes and seeing the dark shapes unfolding like a whole other universe, but nothing. No colours, no ground, nothing. It was definitely not like he’d ever imagined a dream being. He turned, once again barely noticing as he didn’t feel his body and it was just as blank as anything else he was “looking” at previously.

“Hello?” He spun around quickly, but didn’t feel any wind like turning would usually guarantee. All he knew is, wherever he was, not the entire world was inside him. Someone else was there. He began looking around until he noticed the source of the noise. In front of him was a man. Blue eyes, dark hair. He didn’t notice until he looked at him closer, that he didn’t really have a body. Well, obviously he had a look, like Jack noticed as soon as he saw him, but it was more detached. It was like there was just a voice and the appearance of whoever said that word was shadowed onto that sound. Like Jack was creating the look of them. As if talking to someone he knew over the phone and then the body he associates with that voice were to materialise in front of him. But he didn’t know the person, although the voice did seem oddly familiar. Not really the voice itself, but it give him a familiar feeling. He looked down trying to figure out what was going on, and noticed how his hands weren’t seemingly solid either, like the person in front of him. He looked back up, if there was an up, and met their eyes, with a realisation that they had a similar shade of deep blue as him.

“Who are you?” was the first question he asked, but it didn’t seem to come out of his mouth. At least he didn’t notice his mouth or vocal chords moving. What is this may have been a better question, in hindsight. The man was squinting at him and he got the strange sense that this guy was feeling the same, strange, familiar sense about Jack, as Jack was feeling about him. Without thinking, Jack reached out to try and touch his arm. His hand got closer and closer and eventually…he supposed they touched, but he couldn’t feel it and didn’t have much time to contemplate it. For a fraction of second, it looked more like his hand went slightly through the arm, but before he could even think about that, their eyes met very briefly and then-

“Hey, wake up.” Dean’s voice said shortly, not realising through the closed door that Jack was already sitting up, breathing heavily. He was wondering why he was feeling like that. It was just a dream, it had to be. Besides, he couldn’t even remember it, only knew that he was feeling weird and that it was because of whatever he dreamed about. He only remembered some little things, but he knew he’d likely forget the few things he remembered in about 10 minutes. He shrugged it off and got out of bed.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed when someone knocked on his door.

“Hey.” Sam said as he opened the door. He walked in upon receiving a semi smile from Jack. “How come you haven’t got out of your room yet?”

“And have breakfast with someone who wants to kill me?” Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but paused as the thought seemed to get caught in his throat. “Dean doesn’t-”

Jack just gave a dry laugh. “Really?”

Sam looked at him sympathetically, and then down at his shoes. “He isn’t sure about you. And he doesn’t think inviting you on hunts and such is a good idea, but…I thought I should at least offer.” He met his eyes and Jack looked at him with a neutral expression. Sam gestured slightly with his hands, and let them drop.

“Just thought I’d offer.” He stood up and Jack bit his lip.

“What are you hunting?” Sam turned back and gave a little smile.

Well, Sam was completely wrong on what the creature was. The attack was considered as a werewolf attack by him, but research showed it was something known as a whisper. Understandable how they never encountered one, considering they don’t actually hunt outside of the solar eclipse. For some reason, when Sam mentioned the creatures name, Dean changed the topic quickly. Sam was confused, as he knew Dean couldn’t have hunted one either, so the likelihood of some negative experience involving one was unlikely, but Jack knew a bit more. He sensed pain in his mood, which he usually ignored in both Sam and Dean as ever since he knew them, that seemed to be common, but it kind of surged in that situation. He wouldn’t usually read minds, that part of his existence he never really wanted to embrace, especially when someone he knew still held the possibility of killing him, but it did come in handy in some situations. He didn’t even really plan it, but he saw what Dean was thinking, and he saw a man with blue eyes, dark hair and…

He was back in that place. He didn’t even try and figure out where or what it was, but he did notice something. It took him a while, but he felt a bit more…solid? Human? He didn’t know, but he felt more embodied than last time. Only slightly. He realised he wasn’t standing, because there was nothing to stand on, but he still felt kind of like a ghost with an outfit.

“You’re back.” He heard the same voice speak and, sure enough, saw the same man. “Who are you?”

“I asked first.” Jack was right. He forgot the “dream” as soon as he got dressed the day before, but now that he was back, he remembered everything.

The man smiled slightly. “My name is Castiel.”

Jack blinked, trying to place the name. “I heard Sam and Dean talking about you!” he said, snapping his head back up.

Castiel seemed calm generally, up until that point. When he heard those names, it was like he let his defences fall. He moved closer to Jack.

“You’ve spoken to Sam and De-” he began to ask, almost frantically, and then gained an expression as if trying to figure out something. Jack knew he couldn’t have read his mind in that situation whether he wanted to or not, but he could tell from his expression. From his point of view anyway, but from Cas’, he was starting to realise why the person in front of him was so familiar. “Jack?”

He somehow didn’t find Castiel knowing his name unusual. He nodded.

“Why are you here?” Castiel asked, in what Jack thought was a worried voice, but he didn’t understand why.

“I don’t even know where here is.”

“No, you need to go back, you can’t be here!” Cas practically begged. Yeah, Jack wasn’t imagining it, it was definitely worry in his voice. He felt a strange need or wariness to do as he said, not that he could control it, but he also needed answers.

“Where am I?” Jack asked, not making even a step to move.

“Are you alive?” This seemed like a strange question in his opinion.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?” He could for a second see the look of the mixture of confusion and worry on Castiel’s face before supposedly doing as he was told….

“…should probably get some sleep before continuing the hunt tomorrow.” Jack heard Sam say as he was dragged back into the dusty motel room.

“What?” he got out before he could help himself.

Sam and Dean looked at him. They both looked somewhat confused and Jack soon found out why when Sam asked why he looked so pale. He didn’t know why either. He assumed he had just been day dreaming.

He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. “I, um, just…it’s okay. Let’s just go to bed.” He turned away and headed for the bed nearest the door, knowing the Winchesters were probably staring at him.

The hunt went relatively well, and they were back in the bunker the next day. Dean had gone to take a shower after they got back, leaving Sam and Jack alone at the table. Jack was attempting to read through some of the library books, but was struggling with this nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He closed the book and Sam looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“What is it, Jack?” he asked, looking at him.

Jack hesitated a moment before speaking. “Sam. Who’s Castiel?”

Sam looked incredibly taken aback and shocked by this question, and Jack felt the same sort of pain and grief he felt from Dean radiate off of Sam.

“Why do you ask that?” Sam questioned, trying to sound casual and failing, although Jack didn’t point it out.

“I just heard you and Dean mention him when I first came here.” Jack lied. He did hear them, but that was definitely not why he was asking. “Who is he?”

Sam considered him for a second then looked down and flashed a quick smile, but it was a sad sort of smile. “He was…” How was he supposed to describe him? “Cas was our best friend. He was…he was family.”

Jack saw how much it hurt Sam to talk about him, but he also wanted some more answers. “Why did you say was? What happened to him?”

Sam was clearly uncomfortable, but answered anyway. “He…” he cleared his throat “he just wanted to help and made some bad decisions and….it cost him. It cost us.”

Jack realised it was probably time to back off, but one more question rolled off his tongue. One that he hadn’t even realised he had until that point, and one that he strangely expected he had the answer to, but just needed confirmation.

“What was he?”

Sam was apparently really surprised by that question too, but this time didn’t hesitate in answering it. “He was an angel.”

Jack nodded and licked his lips. He had the sense that that would be the answer. It wasn’t even as much a sense or prediction, but more like a distant memory. A memory someone forgot mostly but had left an imprint on the person. The sort of thing that creates emotional connections, like if someone hates a song and doesn’t know why, only that they have some sort of deja vu when listening to it. That’s always been how he felt towards the mysterious person since he “appeared” in that emptiness. His eyes, his voice, his name all felt familiar, but he could never truly place where he was from and it didn’t help that he couldn’t even fully remember what happened when he, or his mind or whatever was transported there.

He looked up at Sam. “Look, I better get to bed, I’m tired.” He got up and left.

A few days passed without much changing, Jack knowing full well that Dean still really didn’t trust him. He never mentioned the visions or dream or anything he’d been having, but he was kind of missing them. Not as much missing, as having an annoying voice in the back of his head giving him the need to go back. He eventually decided to try and initiate it.

Cas’ old room was barely a bedroom. The bed was almost untouched, no covers or pillows placed on it, the room had no personal decorations or weapons that littered around the rest of the bunker, but it was possible to see there was an occupant at some point. A few books were neatly stacked on the nightstand, a small dent on the edge of them bed, the only sign it was ever used for anything, signalled someone sitting there, the fact that Jack knew both Sam and Dean found going into the room difficult but the dent was still present let him know the owner of the room would often sit there, possibly reading, but the singular positioning made it clear that the bed wasn’t slept in. Possible the most obvious sign that there was indeed an inhabitant at one point was the suit and coat draped over the bed. The fabric of the coat had the feel of being protective, but not very comfortable, however it felt like time and usage of the material had softened it. The care put into laying all of that there neatly was evident, despite it being a seemingly simple task. Jack reached out the hand not already running over the trench coat and lifted the opening slightly. On top of the tan coat, slightly absorbed into the fabric, Jack noticed the reddish brown colour of dry blood, staining it. He looked across the chest area of the clothing, trying to find the reason for the blood, and spotted a substantial sized whole in the centre. As he looked down at it, mouth slightly opening, he felt a strange sense of longing and sympathy. As if listening to someone talking about a bad memory. He had noticed the looks both Sam and Dean had when passing the door, and after Sam explained about the angel, he understood why.

“Jack?” He turned around, slightly startled at the sudden sound. Sam was standing in the door way, having the same sense of grief written on his face as he tried to hide most of the time. His voice was quiet but not angry, making Jack glad it was Sam who found him and not Dean, as he had a feeling him exploring the bunker like this wouldn’t have went down well with the older brother. Sam, on the other hand, had a mixture of sadness and calm about him. He walked over to Jack and sat down next to the clothes, not looking at him. He gently picked up the lapel of the jacket with his thumb and index finger, and smiled for a brief second, a broken smile. “What are you doing here?”

Jack didn’t know how to answer but before he had time to figure out what to say, Sam asked another question. “Why are you so interested in Cas?”

This time, the reason Jack didn’t answer is because he didn’t know it. Yes, he wanted answers, but he was more interested in meeting Castiel again than in that aspect. He maybe went into the room to attempt that, but there was more. He really was interested in that angel, in more than a curiosity way. As a way to avoid answering, he just shrugged. Sam sighed and stood up.

“Jack, you said you heard me and Dean talking about him, but we haven’t mentioned him by name for about a week before it. It’s not exactly a topic we’re rushing to talk about. If you really were just curious,” he continued, “you would have asked earlier, and whatever you wanted to find out, you would have come in here earlier if you wanted.”

Jack scoffed a little. “Alright, Sherlock.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows questioningly. “How do you even know who that is?”

“The books are in the library.”

“Since when do you read?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but it wouldn’t make any more sense.”

The two of them just stared at each other, and Sam eventually gave a grudging laugh, but he quickly stopped and looked back up at Jack.

“You know, that didn’t make me forget about the question.” Jack sighed and turned away, his lips almost a thin line. “Look, I can’t make you talk to us, but just…” he paused “just don’t pull a Winchester and hide something that could help us, alright?”

Jack tilted his head and furrowed his brows. “Did you just use your own name as a verb?”

Sam laughed but didn’t answer. He placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack wasn’t sure whether it was as a comfort, a simple friendly gesture, or, as the next few seconds made him realise as a possibility, a way of leading him out.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Jack didn’t feel like arguing, so he gave in and lead the way out of the room. After they were out of the room, Sam turned off the lights and starting closing the door. Before completely shutting it, he looked in the darkened room, the trench coat and tie so associated with his best friend still carefully laid across the bed, and smiled a smile, equally happy and sad at the same time.

Jack couldn’t pretend he wasn’t disappointed that it didn’t work, but there was not much more he could do. One thing he knew, he wasn’t going to tell them. He spent the rest of the day relatively quiet, although seemingly not enough to raise suspicion. He went to bed that night, calm but nowhere near content. He fell asleep as soon as he laid down.

Castiel didn’t have much to do where he was. He was neither ghost, nor angel but he knew existence never just goes away after death, so he just was. Existing outside of the dimension. However, despite the fact that most creatures would go out of their mind mostly alone in that place, he didn’t want Jack to return. He didn’t want him or the Winchesters to have anything to do with it. But of course, nothing ever works out right, even after death.

Jack didn’t know how he felt being back there. He may have wanted to go back there after everything, but it was still so strange and unfamiliar, he found it difficult to have any other emotion other than wild awareness of his almost non existent surroundings.

“I told you, you need to go away.”

Jack knew who the voice belonged to by that point, and turned to see him, once again realising how much clearer he had become in his eyes, although Jack had changed much more.

“I did. Now I’m back.” His voice was calm and serious, making it clear he was not backing down.

“Jack, you have no idea how bad this is. You don’t know where you are.” While Jack was definitely not joking around, Castiel’s tone made him feel like he was a comedian. No hint of the worry or compassion in that was in his voice previously, it was just pure logical and serious.

“Enlighten me.”

Cas looked away, avoiding his eyes and, without looking at him, he began. “I believe it’s known as the empty.”

Jack nodded. “That explains it.”

“You still don’t understand. If you’re alive, or dead for that matter of fact, you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be able to be here, and you certainly shouldn’t be able to come back and forth.”

Jack didn’t really feel he learnt anything here about the dangers necessarily, he wasn’t ever expecting picnics, but he learnt one thing. He was definitely not dreaming. This was real. But he also knew he was not leaving just yet, even if he could.

“It’s not exactly my choice. Trust me, I can’t choose when, or why, I come here.” He looked into his eyes and could tell Cas knew he wasn’t lying. He sensed there was likely no way he would drop this, but for that time, he changed the topic.

“How are Sam and Dean?” Jack knew he was bursting to ask that question, the worry returning to his deep voice.

Jack smiled at him. “They’re alive if that’s what you mean. I doubt if they’re often okay, but I think you know that.”

Castiel seemed as happy as he could be with this answer, and for the first time, Jack saw him properly smile. It made such a big difference. He lost his soldier like mask, something which Jack had a feeling doesn’t happen for a lot of people, and appeared human, which Jack only noticed when it happened, otherwise he wouldn’t have even known how different he looked from a human even with the vessel Jack saw. It was even more silent than the bunker was at night, as not much more was left to say. Instead, Jack just stared at his hands, playing with his fingers. He wove his hands together and the thought hit him. He could feel it. He felt his body, he felt the light pressure of his own hand pressing on his other one, he wasn’t a vision or a hologram of some sort, he felt everything. He stopped fidgeting and turned his palms over to have a look at them. The concentration he had was quickly broken by Cas.

“How did you get here?” You said you were alive.”

Jack looked away from his hands. “I don’t know. The truth is, I was kind of hoping you might be able to explain it.”

Cas turned away once again, thinking. “Well, you are one of the most powerful beings in creation.” He said. It was something Dean would say to Sam about why keeping Jack around was bad, but he didn’t have any hint of the resentment Dean’s voice was so regularly laced with. Cas turned back to look into Jack’s eyes, reflecting his own. “It’s possible you are inadvertently using your power to travel between realms. Although, I have never heard of a being with powers to enter this one.” His voice was so matter of fact like he faced this everyday, but it maintained a sense of kindness.

Jack nodded, still confused but more open to accepting anything at that point. Cas was also clearly keen to move on. Move onto something that Jack had known since he arrived back there that he would not let go.

“Listen to me. If you are coming here, even if you don’t intend to, it’s due to your powers. You may not know how to control it, but you need to learn, otherwise something much worse will happen. You need to use it outside of your subconscious, and you need to use it to get back there. Please, go back.” He was practically begging, the fear in his voice was evident, but the logic behind the words was also clear.

“But what’s the problem? I’ve come and gone, why is it so urgent all of a sudden?”

“Haven’t you noticed? I can see you, I can see how you are starting to fit into this world.” Cas was scarily calm, but he seemed to have a habit of having more than one tone of voice at the same time, as the urgency in his voice shown through too. “If you stay here longer, or keep coming back, I’m worried you’ll be stuck here.”

“Why would you care, I’m sure you want some company?”

Cas looked down at his shoes, speaking to the supposed ground, though there was still nothing there. “I’ve done things to deserve being here. I’ve accepted it. But I don’t want you to get trapped here with me. You need to leave.”

Jack couldn’t say anything else except nod.

Cas nodded understandingly, contemplating if he should say the next thing on his mind. He looked back at Jack. “Tell Sam and Dean I hope they can be okay.”

Jack considered him for a second. “I have a better idea.” He didn’t know whether it would work, but Cas was right. He did start to be more connected to this dimension. Which could only mean, he existed in it more than originally. In one swift movement, he lifted his hand and placed it on the Cas’ shoulder, this time unmistakably feeling the solid matter under his fingers for a brief second, but only a brief second before waking up, back in the bunker.

For the first time, he could remember everything that had happened, but he didn’t know why he had woken up. All he knew was that it was real, he was skipping between realms, and if it didn’t work, he had to tell them. How could he not when their best friend literally had something to say to them from beyond the grave. He looked around himself, as if expecting the angel to be standing behind him. He sighed and got out of bed.

In the dining room of the bunker, the lights were still off. Sam, as often the first to wake up, went to try and get some food. The bunker was quickly lit with a bright glow, not removing the underground effect, but giving it decent lighting. Sam looked at the table and froze. His laptop that he left on the table the night before was moved to the side and closed as opposed to open, as if someone were to bump it. Maybe Jack was right, and he was somewhat like Sherlock Holmes noticing such things, but as a hunter it came in useful. Also as a hunter, his first instinct was to grab his gun, but he didn’t have it on him as he had just woken up. Instead, he grabbed the machete on top of the bookcase in the library, and edged nearer to the opposite side of the table. As he got closer, he noticed a small trail of blood, leading behind the table, and up to a body. A body which made Sam become completely rooted with shock.

“Dean!” Sam’s call was heard throughout the bunker, filled with shock, surprise, fear and pain. Jack heard it, and heard Dean’s footsteps hurrying into the room. Jack soon followed.

Jack got into the dining room, he estimated, about 30 seconds after Dean, and already saw them, Dean with his hand still clasped around the gun, but his hands down in front of him, Sam the blade at his side. Jack could only see them from behind, but sensed a mixture of about 20 different emotions from the two of them. He slowly drew up behind them, and noticed why they were looking so rigid. In front of them was a man, seemingly sleeping, with dark brown hair and, though his eyes were closed, Jack was sure if he were to open them, they’d be an almost shocking blue.

He looked between the brothers, and saw neither of them was, first of all, going to drop their respective weapons, and secondly, move closer to the celestial being laying unconscious on the floor. After a few more glances to make sure, Jack took matters into his own hands, and moved closer. He felt a hand grab his arm.

“Jack stay back.” Sam hadn’t taken his eyes off the figure, and neither had Dean, but Jack didn’t answer. The grip he was in wasn’t strong enough to hold him in place, so he broke free and knelt down beside Castiel. Because He knew it, even if Sam and Dean didn’t believe it. He knew who it was. He took hold of his shoulders and turned him over, before placing a hand on his chest, feeling a weak but still there heartbeat. With a pale glow of his eyes, the heartbeat became stronger, and stronger, and stronger, until eventually….

Well, now he knew it. Angels do breathe. It was obvious after the deep and, Jack imagined, cleansing cold breath, rolling his head over. Jack saw a smudge of dry blood on his cheek which he figured was from his mouth or a cut until Jack healed it. Other than that, he seemed completely unharmed.

He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Jack looking down on him. Their eyes locked and a silent moment of understanding existed between them at that point, but neither of them said anything. Instead, Cas turned his head, and spotted Sam and Dean standing there, eyes fixed on him.

“Sam,” he whispered, in between heavy breaths, “Dean.” He sat up, still looking at them, then looked around the bunker. “It hasn’t changed much.”

Sam was still standing with the machete in his hand by his side, but Dean took action. He pushed Jack out of the way, and pinned Cas down to the floor, a gun by his head.

“Who are you?!” He demanded, clearly not believing any of this.

“Angels aren’t hurt by bullets, Dean. Or salt rounds.” He smiled a small smile. “But you’d know that, of course.”

Dean’s face dropped, and his grip loosened. Of course he knew what Cas was getting at, their first meeting was far from forgettable, and no demon could have known about that.

“Cas?” It was Sam who spoke, still clearly in shock. Dean was sitting on the floor next to him, mouth slightly open.

The angel took this calmed down environment to sit up. He already had the trenchoat on, although whether he liked it so much that the first thing to do was put it on, or whether he had come back like that, was unknown, not that it mattered at that moment in time.

He smiled at him, grateful to hear their voices. “Hello, Sam.”

Dean was still looking as if he physically couldn’t talk, so Cas did the only thing he could think of and placed a hand on his shoulder, which Jack recognised, even if he couldn’t when it happened to him, as a comforting and reassuring gesture.

“Dean.” his voice was low and emotional and calm all at once, and Dean seemed to regain the ability to speak a little.

He cleared his throat. “How, uh, how is this possible?” He was not meeting his eyeline.

Cas stayed quiet for a second, and then turned his head to face Jack. “Ask him.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is back and the boys have found a case to work on. He's glad to be back with the Winchesters and Jack, but he can't get the empty out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how late this is. I started writing it a long time ago, but I got distracted with school, exams coming up, and other projects. I was going to write more, but it's already been a long time and it's a long chapter, so I'm postingredients it now and writing another one. Sooner, I promise.

The room lay motionless, as well as everything, and everyone, in it. All three of the trio staring at Jack, Sam with confusion, Dean as well but mingled with slight anger and scepticism, although the most prominent expression on both of their faces was simply disbelief and raw emotion, a mixture of almost every one he could name, and Cas was looking at him impassive. Jack looked back at them, somehow seemingly managing to meet all of their eyes at once, despite trying to avoid any of them. He felt a fight coming, although between who he didn’t really know, and a slight embarrassment about keeping everything to himself and at the prospect that he’d now have to explain it. However, one thing he didn’t feel was regret. This was the lesson Sam and Dean have been trying to teach him, right? Saving people? Then again, it wasn’t exactly a person, sitting on the stone ground, looking up at him like Nephilim and coming back from the dead was an everyday activity which, Jack reminded himself, it may well have been with friends like the Winchesters.

He stood under their gaze, not managing to get a word out. He wasn’t scared, but he also didn’t exactly feel like explaining how he somehow managed to jump between realms. He felt a slight anger towards Castiel. Why on earth did he have to tell them to “ask him.”? Like it was easy to explain, and if it was, why didn’t he just do it himself? God, he sounded pathetic, and his next move didn’t help either. He just turned around, and walked away, supposedly forgetting that running existed, and Sam and Dean seemed too confused or possibly scared to go after him. What the hell was he thinking? He walked into his room and locked his door without even lifting a finger. The last thing he needed was this.

The tension in the dining room was so thick, a knife wouldn’t even have been enough to cut it. Dean’s gun was lying on the ground next to them and Sam was still holding the machete by his side. Cas looked mostly relaxed, but behind his eyes it was visible how happy and anxious he was, waiting for someone to make the first move, say the first word. Dean turned away from him, looking down at the ground. He sighed, shook his head, and, after what seemed and felt like an eternity, he spoke in a strangely stable voice.

“You stupid idiot!” Every word was steeped in anger. He looked back up at Cas, his expression the same as when he learned Cas was working with Crowley, full of hurt, which almost made Cas’ heart break. “How could you do this?”

Cas didn’t know what he meant. He didn’t exactly plan all of this. He didn’t know what to say, so instead he looked up at Sam for help. Sam’s mouth turned up at the corners at the clearly worried look from Cas, but there was an odd sadness in his eyes. The devastated, yet strangely ecstatic look on Sam’s face pulled a smile from Cas too. He turned back to face Dean, who was losing his angered expression among shock every time their eyes met, as if every time Cas looked at him, he still couldn’t believe he was back. He was about to answer, but Sam got there before him.

“Dean. He didn’t try to die.”

“Didn’t he?” Dean was now facing Sam, but his body was still turned toward Cas. “Because whenever he does something, 90% of the time it ends up being a suicide mission.”

“And what you do doesn’t?”“ Cas’ voice was calm, but his eyes bore into Dean briefly, before softening. “Dean, my intentions were never to hurt either of you.”

Dean looked at him for a few seconds longer, and then stood up and went to the table. Cas followed after him, but as he got to the table, Sam put an arm out to stop him, softly calling at him. Cas turned to face him. Sam looked much more shaken by everything than he did, but he smiled and pulled him into a hug. Cas just stood still for a second, then responded to it, and gave a smile when the hug broke.

“We’re really happy you’re here.”

Dean was sitting at the table, overly calm for the situation, staring at the two of them as they made their way to sit down. When they did, he just shook his head.

“Do you know how long you’ve been gone?”

Cas looked at him before sincerely answering. “I don’t know.”

“Well, how long have you been back? Did you wait for something, or do something before coming here?” his voice still seemed distant, as if trying to figure this whole situation out.

The tone of his voice made Cas think it must have been a long time since that night. Cas realised why Dean was angry. He thought Cas had been back before, and they weren’t the first person he went to see.

“Dean, I have no idea how this is possible, but I didn’t do anything when I woke up. I just came here.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “Hold on, you must know something.” he said, turning to face him completely. “What you said about Jack, ask him? What did you mean?”

Cas looked back at him. He knew, whatever the case, that Jack was still in danger and he wouldn’t have told this to just anyone, but even after being gone so long, he trusted them.

“He is one of the strongest beings I have ever encountered. I don’t think even he knows what he’s capable of, and neither do I. Nephilim are rare, but the child of an archangel? As far as I know, it has never happened before.”

Dean considered him for a moment, but his expression had moulded from an angry look, to affection. “Did he bring you back?”

“I think that’s something you should ask him.”

Dean looked down and smiled, giving a short, breathy laugh, and looked back up at him. “We thought we had lost you. Again. Lucifer, the angel blade…” he didn’t seem to be able to get anything else out.

Cas looked at him, saddened at the idea that he caused either of them pain. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean nodded and bit his lip. “It’s okay. You’re back now.”

Jack was lying across his bed, feet hanging off. He knew he could easily have heard the conversation they had, but couldn’t really be bothered. He didn’t even try to sit up when there was a knock on the door, just turned his head.

“Jack?”

At the sound of that voice, Jack sat up, not looking at the door. “Come in.” he said blankly.

Cas entered the room, looking nervous. Jack didn’t think angels could look nervous until that point. Then again, he also didn’t think they could be worried, but that was already proven to be wrong.

“Are you okay?” Cas didn’t sit down, and Jack wondered whether it was the same caution that Dean had, but he didn’t think so.

He also knew he should be angry, but he had exhausted that now. He was just tired, he hadn’t really slept for days. However, he still didn’t understand why Cas had told the Winchesters that he knew something. With a little effort, he formed his features into a mad expression.

“No.” he snapped. His answer was true, but his tone was forced, as he hoped it wouldn’t show. “Why would you say that to them? I told you, I have no idea what happened.”

Cas sat down on the bed next to him. “Well, that isn’t strictly true. You grabbed me.”

“Did you want me to do something else?” he had already dropped his whole façade, and now was just having a conversation.

He didn’t actually think he was right, but Castiel’s face kind of said otherwise. As if he actually thought Jack should gave.

“Sam and Dean wouldn’t be angry.”

“Maybe not Sam.” Jack didn’t know why he was being so honest, but there was something about the angel.

Cas sighed. “Dean…” he paused, “he can be difficult.” he turned to face him, “but he doesn’t hate anyone without reason.”

“Well, he has plenty of reason to hate me.” he sounded slightly bitter despite not trying to, “I’m the son of the one who killed…” he turned his eyes on Cas, “well, you know.”

Cas dropped his eyes and smiled. “He knows people can be different to their father. He tries to deny it, but he himself is. They let you stay here, didn’t they?”

Jack had to be honest, he hadn’t given any of this much thought, as he was close to blaming himself too. He looked back up at Cas, now non of that rage left over.

“Are you alright?” he seemed scared, as if he was worried he screwed something up.

“I’m fine.” he said, but Jack thought he heard something else in his voice. “How are you?”

Now, that was one of those questions that seemed easy, but was really hard to answer. Normally he would have just said he was fine. That’s what normal people do, right? But he didn’t feel like lying to Cas. Instead, he stayed quiet. Cas still wasn’t sure what to do in situations like this. Comfort wasn’t something he was ever, intentionally at least, good at.

“What have you been doing with Sam and Dean?”

Jack shrugged. “I went on a hunt with them.”

In other situations, it may have been an awkward silence, but that wasn’t the case then. It was strangely welcome. The only person who Jack ever sat with in silence like this was Dean, for completely different reasons. He didn’t dislike him, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable then. The situation with Cas kind of made him laugh. He was sitting with an angel on a bed in a bunker of hunters. It’s like a bad sitcom.

Sam and Dean were still at the table. The tension had lifted, but it still felt unusual. Sam was looking at Dean as if trying to decide something, and seemingly decided to say it.

“Dean, look,” he couldn’t help smiling, “I kind of found a case.”

Dean looked at him stunned. “What? Is the internet now in your head? You don’t even have your laptop out.”

Sam gave a small laugh. Normally, he may have been slightly annoyed, but both of them were in a good mood. “I found it last night. I couldn’t sleep, so I looked online.

“Look, man, I don’t know. I mean is now really a good time?”

“Remember what you were like when you came back?”

“Which time?”

Sam actually did look slightly exasperated by that, but laughed it off. “I’m just saying, we finally have the team back together, why not do what we usually do?”

Dean looked angry at that comment. “We just got him back, do you seriously want to go on a hunt with him? Risk losing him again?”

“He’s not weak, Dean. He’s an angel and he’s good at hunting.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

Sam broke off and him and Dean turned around. Jack and Cas were coming into the room, and Sam huffed a laugh.

“You were listening?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly whispering.” Cas said, sitting down beside them. “Do you want me to go on a hunt?”

“Is that okay?”

“I haven’t done anything since I got back. I’m happy to help.”

Sam looked at Dean raising his eyebrows. He still seemed unsure, but eventually seemed to give up. “Fine. What’s the case?”

———————————————————————————————————–

The woman was pacing in her room. Her expression was calm, but she’s been pacing for about an hour. Her hair, brown with blond highlights, was tied back in a loose ponytail, some strands escaping from the band. How could I make a mistake like that? she thought. She wasn’t scared of the police, she could easily take care of them, but she certainly didn’t want another run in with hunters. She should have known better. When getting rid of a body, don’t get cocky, stay till it’s done. It could have simply been a bonfire, for all anyone would have known, if she had just waited for everything to be gone. Now, she was left in the semi darkness of her bedroom, debating what to do next. She stopped, and sat down on her bed, taking out a knife from her pocket, but not making any move to use it for a while, and then moving so suddenly it would have been near impossible to predict, out of the door.

Her daughter had no idea of any of this, not of magic or monsters, not of what she was, and being early in the morning, she was still asleep. She opened her door and stepped in. She couldn’t help appreciate how peaceful she was, her hair falling over her pillow, covering it. Like blood, her mother thought. Her hands under her head and her eyes fluttering slightly as she dreamed. Her mum couldn’t help but smile, but she had more important things than her right now.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.”

She stepped further into the room, right up beside her bedside. She tilted her head, moving a few locks of hair out of her face, making her very slightly readjust her position. Gently, she opened the girl’s hand, placing a small, dark brown bag in her palm, mumbling a few words of Latin. As she waited for it to take effect, she lifted the knife, and moved it against her cheek, drawing blood, but the hex bag prevented her feeling it, and healed it after a minute, leaving her still in peace, and the blood dripping off the knife.

“It’s all going to be okay.” she said almost lovingly, stroking her cheek and wiping the remaining blood away.

———————————————————————————————————–

The case was only an hour away, but locked in an enclosed space that long with a resurrected angel and a Nephilim is not anything Sam and Dean ever envisioned happening. Dean ended up checking the mirror way more than needed, as if checking to see that Cas was still in the backseat, and every time he did, his mood seemed to improve massively. Still, what were they supposed to talk about?

“So, how was it, Cas?” Dean asked. “Being dead?”

Sam scoffed. “Nice small talk, Dean.”

“Okay, you try.” Dean remarked jokingly. “So, how was it?”

“It was calm. Empty.”

Sam remembered something as he said this. “Wait, THE empty?”

Cas nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

“It’s where Billy said she wanted to throw us.”

“Great.” Dean mused, “Now we know what we have in store for us.”

“You’d be unfortunate to end up there. It seemed lonely.” Jack mumbled, half subconsciously.

In fact he seemed to be the only one not registering what he said. Sam frowned and twisted to look at him, while Dean almost crashed the car turning around so fast. He pulled it up to the side of the road and turned his entire body to look at him.

Jack looked between the two of them. “What?” he asked genuinely oblivious.

“What did you just say?”

Jack looked like he realised his screw up. Now he had to explain it, that’s for sure, but how? It’s not something anyone can just skim over like nothing.

“I’ve been there, when I brought him back.” okay, he thought. I guess I can.

He wasn’t exactly sure how those words ended up coming out, but he was almost sure he just dug himself an even deeper hole. And everyone knows, when you’re stuck in a hole, you should stop digging. He sat there waiting for someone else to say a word, and when no one did, he half considered saying “I’m just kidding” but-

“Hey, I’m only joking.” Jesus Christ, he needs to learn not to say everything that comes into his head.

It was obvious neither of them looked like they believed it, but both of them seemed to decide that was not the time. They set off again. Jack turned to look at Cas beside him. He didn’t look angry or anything like that, he was just staring ahead, and out the windows. Jack assumed after spending so many months ‘locked’ in a place like he was, nature was something you’d end up missing.

But that wasn’t what Cas was thinking of. He was in what he would call a waking dream. He was remembering where he went. How he had gotten there. The good thing about being an angel is you don’t really feel the pain of death. One sharp sting to the back in his case, and then that’s it. Humans would have likely taken a bit longer, either to bleed out, be rescued, or for their heart to stop fighting. It was kind of ironic, how angels, God’s soldiers, stopped fighting as soon as something like that happened, while humans, who were supposed to be less powerful, had to suffer due to their need to stay alive. Than again, angels shouldn’t be scared of death.

When he first arrived there, he wasn’t surprised or even confused, just curious. The silence there was literally deafening. He knew that was a paradox in a way, but it was literally the case then. It felt as if his ears had shut off, although maybe they had. As if leaving the battlefield and the noise behind, and thrown into an uncomfortable peace. The last thing he remembered was Dean’s voice. It was already muffled, as he felt his grace leaving his body, but it was clear enough to fully understand what must have happened. The plan didn’t work, and Lucifer had gotten out. And there was nothing he could do then.

He decided to explore his surroundings, if he could. He wasn’t sure how he could even step forward without anything solid to step on, or whether his legs even carried him anywhere, as nothing seemed to change no matter how far he travelled.

“Hello?” a deep voice spoke from behind him and he spun round in shock.

“Cas?” he turned towards Dean’s voices. He was standing at the open door of the passenger side door by which Cas was sitting, his hand on Cas’ shoulder. The impala was pulled up by the side of a small road. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” he got out of the car, Dean patting his back as he did so.

They were standing by a small road, Cas assumed by the town’s edge. He hadn’t been paying attention. The sun was shining, and barely a breeze blew by. It wasn’t the most comfortable weather, but that didn’t matter. The four of them headed along the road, towards where the incidents were said to happen.

The first place they were going to go to was the one of the victim’s girlfriend. The deaths were definitely related, not only because the people were. They were brothers, so that almost ruled out it being a random serial killer.

They were sitting on the women’s couch, as she sat opposite to them, trying not to cry. Or, rather, Sam and Dean were. The sofa wasn’t long enough to fit all four of them, they have never actually gone on a hunt like this, in such a large group before. There was that whole “Khan worm” situation. And then the British Men Of Letters. None of those exactly filled the Winchesters up with confidence. However, it was definitely different then. They were with people they completely trusted this time. Or, one person they completely trusted, and one who Sam trusted and Dean was warming up to.

With that thought, the day actually went smoothly. Family, police, witness, and then crime scene, the latter two at the same time. Sam and Jack going to visit any possible witnesses of the murders, or prior to them, and Dean and Cas going to the crime scene.

———————————————————————————————————–

Sam knocked on the door waiting for a response. It didn’t take long, as the door swung open and a young, dark haired woman stood on the doorstep.

Sam smiled. “Hello Ma’am, I’m here to ask a few questions about a few nights ago.” he said, holding up his badge. “We are investigating a few murder cases.”

The woman frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“We know, but we think you may have seen the person responsible.”

She shrugged. “Alright, come on in agents.” she led them to a living room which Jack thought was a bit too grey to be very comforting. “Would you like some tea?”

Sam shook his head. “No, thank you.”

She nodded and sat down on the couch. Jack looked around the room in interest. He hadn’t spent much time doing this yet, and, though he knew they weren’t looking for signs of blood or an attack, he couldn’t help it. Other than the colour scheme, the place didn’t look so bad. It was covered in photographs and paintings which looked like they were made by a child. Several books lined the shelves on the walls, and they all looked well loved and used.

“So, what would you like to know, agents?” Jack was still unused to being referred to as that.

“We were wondering if you saw anything or anyone suspicious in the town centre on Wednesday or Friday. We know you were working those nights.”

The woman looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly shaking her head. “No. Sorry.”

Jack looked towards Sam, before remembering he had the pictures, and quickly turning back around. He reached into his inside jacket pocket, and pulled out a few photos.

“Well, do you recognise these men?” he tried to sound formal.

She took a quick glance at the photos, before reaching out so fast, she almost hit Jack’s hand as he was still holding the pictures. The people in the pictures were both partially burnt, but it was enough for her to recognise them “Actually yeah.” she said in recognition. “They were both talking to some woman.”

Sam shared a quick look with Jack, and went back to the job. “Both of them?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” she looked up. “I mean, it’s usually a quiet night on Wednesdays so it was easy to remember them, and the same woman came in on Friday. She seemed to be chatting up them both.”

“Chatting up?” Jack asked, confused,

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I assume so, they both left with her.”

Jack didn’t know if this was a normal thing to get excited about, but he knew it meant getting closer to the answer.

“Do you possibly have security cameras in the bar?”

She shook her head solemnly. “No, sorry. But I can describe her if you want?”

They left the house about twenty minutes later with a strangely full description of the person the victims were seen talking to. A young woman, around thirty or forty, with blond highlights and blue eyes. It was unbelievable how someone who worked in a bar could remember someone so clearly.

“Our first vic was happily in a relationship. They found an engagement ring in his pocket, he had a kid and no previous record of infidelity.” Sam thought outloud. “Why would he simply go with a woman he met at a bar?”

“Unless he didn’t have a choice.” Jack finished Sam’s train of thought aloud.

———————————————————————————————————–

The crime scene was left as it was found, minus the bodies which were taken to the morgue. The entire ground was charred and covered in soot, and there were still remnants of the logs on which the bodies were found.

This disturbed Dean as much as what had actually happened. Whoever did this used the same method as they did when someone died. His stomach did a flip as he remembered everyone who they cremated this way.

The logs were all mostly burnt away, but the victims weren’t, which Dean thought meant there wasn’t enough when the perpetrator set it up. They couldn’t have been very experienced.

Cas was on the other side of the remains, searching the ground with much more focus than Dean was. His mind was still elsewhere. He glanced up, across from him, and saw Cas, behaving almost exactly like a detective. He sighed.

“You know I’m not angry.” he said.

Cas looked up, clearly confused. “What do you mean, Dean?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds. He never thought he’d have to explain why he’s not annoyed that their best friend was back.

“I mean, I’m pissed that you once again managed to get yourself killed,” he continued, “but I really am glad you’re here.”

The angel actually looked surprised, but smiled and bent his head down. It was supposed to be the beginning of a nod, but something caught his eye before he could lift it back up. He squinted and crouched down, closer to the ash.

“What is it?” Dean asked, heading around to him.

Cas lifted a log away, and picked up something from the dust. He held it up in front of his eyes and turned it over once. He could hear Dean groan beside him.

“Witches.” he grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the fact that this is after season 13 started takes away from it slightly, but hopefully you still enjoyed. Thank you for reading after so long.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt takes an interesting turn when Team Free Will find out she has a daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently I really sucked at updating. I decided to write both parts together so I can post them together. I wanted to really finish it before the new year. I'm 2 hours away, so, happy new year! So sorry about the wait.

It took the two groups all of 5 minutes to correlate their stories. Witches was quickly the go to for both of them. Or, rather, a witch. With that information, it was simple enough to work out the woman's name, Julie, and address. Well, for them anyway.  
She didn't live far, so they decided to make their way to the apartment.

There was nothing seemingly suspicious about the woman from the information they gathered, nor anything about her home, but they all agreed it was her.  
That was why they were currently at the flat. It would have been quite hard to not draw attention to themselves if they snuck in at night, considering they don't often hunt in a group of four, so they decided to go during the day. Once Sam found the door, he signalled for them to stay back and started picking the lock.

Jack leant forward slightly and tilted his head in curiosity. “What is he doing?”

“He's trying to get in there.” Cas responded, as they waited. “He's picking the lock.”

Jack frowned. “Isn't breaking in wrong?”

Dean had to resist rolling his eyes. It wouldn't have helped much. Besides, it wouldn't have been good to accidentally start something in the hallway.

“The woman killed two men.” Sam responded, having listened to what was going on. “I think a little breaking in isn't too bad.”

“Oh.” Jack said.

Sam turned back to continue the job. He barely started again however, when he instinctively jumped back as dust flew up into the air, due to the door flying off its hinges. It landed with a clutter a shot distance away from its rightful place.

Sam, Dean, and Cas all stared for a few seconds, before Sam stood up and they all slowly turned to glare at Jack, who was standing there with his hand outstretched in front of him, looking like a lost puppy.

“I didn't know it would be that loud.” he said sincerely.

Dean lifted up his arms in an exasperated gesture, about to say something before a small voice interrupted them.

“Hello?”

They all froze and then turned to the apartment, where half the door frame had pretty much come off. They all looked down to see a little girl, her dark hair long and loose on her shoulders, in pajamas and hugging a teddy bear to her chest.

Jack smiled and raised his hand. “Hello.”

Sam turned to him and Dean closed his eye, not wanting to elbow the kid. They had bigger things to worry about.

“Who are you?” the little girl asked and they smiled sheepishly.

Cas leant over to Dean. “Dean, you didn't tell me the witch had a child.”

“Well I didn’t know, did I?” he said, trying some kind of ventriloquist act.

“So what's our plan now?” Sam asked.

The little girl seemed oddly calm for everything, although certainly not fearless. She was clutching her teddy incredibly hard, and Sam wondered whether it was them who woke her up. It was still early, after all.

“I have no idea.”

“Well think of something.”

“You think of something.”

“like what?”

“I don't know, anything?”

“Hey there.” Sam said, making a split second decision and crouching down to be face level. The girl stumbled back. “Is, uh, is your mum or your aunt or whoever you live with home?” she nodded. “Good. That's good. See, we're, uh, we're friends of hers.” Sam lied, not having any idea what they were planning to do. They couldn't shoot up the bitch with her daughter in the next room. “Do you think we could see her?”

They waited while the kid seemingly studied them. After a minute or so, she turned away and walked back in the house. Sam and Dean looked between them and then back at Jack and Cas. Cautiously, they followed her in. She lead them down a small hallway to what appeared to be a bedroom. She knocked on it.

“Mummy, there's friends here to see you. They broke down the door.”

They looked guiltily between them. Sometimes it was interesting and funny how little kids didn't have filters, but in other times, it just made things plain complicated.

“Okay, sweetheart.” a woman's voice said from the other side of the door, and she sounded strangely anxious. “Go to your room, send them in.” yeah, she definitely sounded worried.

The little girl turned around and skipped past them to get to what they assumed was her room. They looked at the door and, ready to take out their guns if needed, edged forward to the door. Dean slowly opened the door and was ready to fire, but he didn't need to. The woman was there.The same one described, sitting on the bed. She looked tired and sad, but they knew better than to fall for the act.

“No need to pull out the weapons.” she said, turning to them. “I know who you are.”

“Oh, a fan.” Dean said, mockingly.

She looked at him and stood up, making them react by reaching for their gun. She didn't get any closer, though. She just stood there.

“What's your name?” she asked, and they were almost thrown off by how conversational and sad her tone was.

“I thought you said you knew us.” Sam said, hand by his weapons.

“Well, no point not telling her, I guess. She'll be dead in a minute.” Dean threatened offhand. “I'm Dean, that's Sam, we're the Winchesters. Don't even ask about the two at the back.” he indicated Cas and Jack behind them. “That's a much longer story.”

She let out a groan. “The Winchesters. It always has to be the Winchesters.” she said, in a way that really made them feel infamous. “The whole world knows who you are. Pretty bad job, considering hunters are supposed to hide their identities.”

“You can talk. Can't even burn your victims properly.” Dean said.

She shook her head and all of them were surprised when the light shown on her face and highlighted a droplet of tear, rolling down along the side of her nose.

“You don't understand. They were bad people!” she almost yelled the last part, and they all dropped their guard for a moment.

“You killed them.” Cas spoke up. “What had they done to deserve that?”

“They threatened Kylie!” she said, almost breaking down.

They all frowned for a moment. Apart from Jack. He could see the type of pain written across her face. He knew what it was. From his own mother, even if he never actually saw it. More like felt it. The same type of fear and pain and worry radiated off of her as it used to off Kelly.

“Your daughter.” It wasn't a question.

She didn't break down as expected. She had a strangely stoic expression on her face by that point, but the couple of drops that leaked from her eyes lit up her face as she nodded.

“I got into some trouble with money. They helped me out.” she began, completely emotionless. “Then I couldn't pay them back and they...they threatened my baby girl. You've met her.” She noted. “So I spiked their drinks with the ingredients of a spell. A love spell. I knew they'd come back with me.”

“And then you killed them.” Dean said, understanding what happened.

She nodded. It was really strange. She somehow managed to look guilty and pained while completely remorseless at the same time. But she didn't seem to be threatening to them.

“Do you regret it?” Sam asked her, just realising how vulnerable they were. No weapons out, five people in such a tight space would be unable to avoid any spells. This could have been a mistake.

She met his eyes with her blue ones. They were a very deep blue which could, in other cases, be beautiful. They were still striking, but not necessarily in the best way. Slowly, she shook her head.

“Not when it comes to protecting my family. I just wish I had gotten rid of the bodies better.”

Dean reached to his side and pulled out a gun, having seemingly realised the same thing Sam had about them being vulnerable. “Then you're still a monster.”

“Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same. I know for a fact you have, actually.”

Dean laughed humourlessly. “Don't press your luck, lady. I'm the one here with a weapon.”

She didn't move. “You wouldn't kill an innocent, though, would you?”

“You are by no means innocent.” Dean said, gun pointed.

She took a deep breath, thinking for a second. As if considering something. There was something oddly unsettling about it. Dean wasn't quite sure why he kept the gun out. He knew he couldn't shoot in an apartment complex in broad daylight with her daughter in the next room. Maybe a better plan next time, he scolded himself mentally.

“No. I'm not.” She spoke. “But she is.”

She gestured towards the other room and the group instantly turned, before realising they should probably keep an eye out and watch her. Sam was the first to snap his head back and before he was able to say more than no and be mad at himself for not spotting the giant metal bowl on the other side of the bed, the witch had cut her palm and the drops of blood landed on the already pre set spell.

And then the scream.

It was sharp and pained and cut the air like a chainsaw as they rushed out of the room to the other bedroom. They didn't bother knocking, they opened the door straight in and stopped.

Kylie was lying on the ground, sobbing quietly. Dean crouched down next to her to check on her.

“She's not physically hurt.” Cas said, watching what was going on.

Dean turned to him. “Well then what?”

Before any of them could answer, however, her mother came into view, just outside the door frame, looking grief stricken. Dean shot up from the ground, and held his gun point blank range from her.

“What have you done to her?”

She didn't take her eyes off her daughter, who was rolling around on the floor. There was definitely more feeling in it than before, but not enough. Not for Dean, who has just seen a little girl crying on her bedroom floor because of something her mother has done.

“I joined our lives together.” she said. “If I die, then…” she broke off and looked up at Dean and the gun. “I knew you wouldn't hurt an innocent. And I can't leave her alone in a world where people will want to hurt her.”

“No, you just want to hurt her yourself.”

“You gave me no choice!” she said hysterically.

Nobody moved. No sound was made, apart from the gentle murmurs coming from Kylie’s hair covered lips. Sam frowned and turned around.

“Wait a minute.” he said, getting up. “What's wrong with her? Why can you be fine and she's lying there?”

“The spell caster has more control over the spell. More control over themselves in the spell. Which is not even devised for...adolescents.”

“And you still did it?” Dean asked, shocked. “She could have been really hurt, she is really hurt. I mean, come on, she's your daughter.”

“I know! And she's the reason I'm doing this.” she spat out. “Those men, they were bad. They deserved it. But she doesn't deserve neither to die nor to have her mum taken away. So I trusted you wouldn't hurt her or me if one way or another it meant she'd get hurt.”

Dean honestly didn't know what to think. He certainly knows the feeling of wanting someone safe, but this is an odd way to go about it. The wrong way.

Before he could say anything else, she barged past him and attempted to go to Kylie, but Sam blocked her way. She didn't care. She pushed against him and was oddly strong, crouching down next to the lightly squirming form on the ground, and pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“I'm sorry.” she stood up and looked around them. “If you do anything to her, I swear I will come back and haunt you.”

She made her way across the room towards the bedroom door, but Cas stepped in front of her, stopping her leaving.

She turned around, and was basically surrounded, and each of them looked threatening. It wasn't that surprising, with the room being small anyway, but she had hoped they wouldn't still want to hurt her.

She sighed. “Let me go.”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, no way. Take the spell off her.”

She looked sadly to her daughter, and then back up at Dean, a new found blaze in her eyes that caught Dean off guard as she mumbled something and he was thrown against the wall.

The rest of them were ready to jump into action as she turned to the door and threw Cas out of the way. Unfortunately, in vessels, angels were still susceptible to some magic. She attempted to leave the room with that, but Jack grabbed her arm and she turned around, stilling when she looked into his eyes. They were glowing gold and before she had time to respond, Sam was behind her and hit her at the nape of her head with the handle if his gun, and she fell to the ground.

And Kylie screamed out in pain. Sam dropped his gun to his side and rushed over to her, quickly followed by Jack, and Cas and Dean once they got up and stood up, surrounding her.

Sam frowned and looked back at the unconscious figure behind him and groaned.

“Damn it. Anything we do to her will hurt her just as much.”

“Well, what do we, then?”

Sam waited a second and then sighed, shaking his head. He stood up, turning to Dean, and shrugged.

“Leave them?”

Dean’s mouth parted and he seemed confused and surprised all at once.

“I'm sorry. What?”

“Look, we can't do much if it means killing a little girl, and we can't exactly break the spell when we have no idea what it is.”

“She killed two people, Sam!”

Sam bit his lip. In truth, he knew they had a job to do, but he also knew what it was like to make mistakes in order to protect people he cared about. However, he couldn't imagine he would act in a way that would put the person in danger to protect his family. He didn't quite see the logic behind it.

“So what do you suggest?”

Dean thought for a moment and looked around the room. He hadn't noticed how much of a mess became of the room, likely from him and Cas being thrown around. He noticed his back still hurt from hitting off the wall, not that he would complain about it. He has had far, far worse.

“We better get them out of here.” Dean decided. “The door is broken down, it isn't exactly unsuspicious.”

They agreed. “I'll take the woman, you take her child.” Cas said.

He leant down and lifted Julie over his shoulder, as easily as if she was a pillow. They had known him so long, the Winchesters often forgot how strong he actually was. It was sometimes still a hard thing to think of him as an angel, considering how human he had become over the years.

Sam leant down and picked up the girl in his arms. “This is why we shouldn't do this stuff during the day.”

Dean mumbled an agreement and the three of them headed out of the room, but Jack stayed behind, thinking.

“Wait!” he called, and they all turned around. “I can get us out of here. Without being seen.”

Cas frowned. He knew what he meant, and he kind of missed himself being able to do that, but Jack was still a kid. A kid who was stronger than most creatures they have dealt with, and who doesn't understand how that power should be used. He could get himself hurt. Or other people.

“Jack, are you sure?” he asked, concerned. “There's five people, besides you, to take away.”

“We can't all fit in the car, anyway.”

That was certainly true, and a fact neither Sam nor Dean really thought about. Perhaps the kid was smarter than Dean gave him credit for. But they also couldn't abandon the impala. Dean wouldn't let them, for one. Besides, it was a classic car, but not the most common one. Far easier to spot and identify.

“Okay. How about this. Jack, you take Kylie and her mum to our hotel room, preferably before she wakes up, and me, Sam, and Cas will drive there. Alright?”

Jack nodded, and Sam gently lay Kylie down on the bed so he can take them. But Cas didn't relent as easily. He was far more reluctant in letting him deal with it on his own, even if he was a Nephilim. Eventually, he placed her down beside her daughter.

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

Hesitantly, they turned and left the room. They had made it a small way across the living room when they heard the familiar flap of wings. Even if it has been a while since they've heard it. They turned and glanced back into the room. No one was there anymore. Dean looked over at Cas, who he had learnt to understand by that point, even if he was mostly stoic. He clapped him on the shoulder and gave it a short squeeze.

“He'll be fine.” he assured.

Cas didn't respond, just headed out through the door. “Let's go.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Jack grabbed the arms of the girls and within the next moment, he was at the hotel. He landed a little unsteadily, but managed to not hurt either of them, both falling on the bed.

Realising there wasn't enough space on it for both of them, he lifted Kylie gently and moved her to the other twin bed in the room. Two was enough for the 4 of them. They didn't even plan to stay that long but, it seems, no job was a simple one with them. 

Suddenly, Julie began moaning and Jack’s eyes widened. He should have asked Sam and Dean what to do if she wakes up. He couldn't let her go, he knew that, but he also couldn't hurt her. He didn't want to, anyway. What was he supposed to do?

She started groaning and opened her eyes, attempting to sit up.

“Stay there!” Jack said in panic, reaching out. To his surprise, she actually did.

Jack started panting and looked at his hands. He probably shouldn't do anything without the Winchesters there. But what would make them more angry? Trying to sort this out himself, or accidentally hurting someone or letting them go.

Cautiously, he took a step towards the bed on which the older woman was lying on, eyes now squinting open, confused. He crouched down beside her and slowly reached out a hand, placing it on her forehead. As soon as he did that, her eyes slid shut and her head lolled to the side.

Jack swallowed and stood up. He knew they weren't far away, but he wanted the rest of them back. What the hell was he supposed to do?  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It took them half the time to drive the impala back to the motel as it took to get to the apartment. They must have violated about 10 traffic laws, but considering they were already pretty much wanted for murder in the majority of the states, if they didn’t think they were dead which is unlikely, and had a pile of stolen credit cards and IDs in a box, traffic violations were the least of their problems.

They got out of the car as soon as they parked and headed inside, Dean taking the lead.

“I hope everything went fine and we won't have to walk into a freaking catastrophe.” he voiced as he pushed open the door, and then raised an eyebrow.

Jack was sitting in the edge of Sam’s bed, the one Kylie was lying on, and had the remote in one hand, the TV sounding through the room.

“It seems you didn't need to worry about this being a disaster.” Sam joked.

“Jack?” Dean called, and he looked over to him. “Why are you watching TV.”

“I was curious. Is there something wrong?” he asked when he realised they were there.

Dean raise an eyebrow and then reluctantly smiled. Sometimes, the kid certainly reminded him more of Cas rather than Lucifer.

“No, it's fine.” he said, before turning his attention to the two bodies on the beds. “Are they okay?”

“Yes.” Jack said, looking over. “I think they're both sleeping. I put the woman asleep and I think it must have worked on her daughter as well.”

Dean nodded, slightly relieved.

“What do we do now?” Cas asked, as Sam unpacked his computer.

He sighed. “Research, I guess.” Sam said after a moment. “Don't know if we'll find anything but,” he shrugged, “we can try.”

Cas and Jack instantly went over to him, Dean grumbled a bit but followed.

They settled down to get to work. The hunt may be longer than anticipated, but it was tedious and boring. Sam and Dean were situated at the table while Cas and Jack were sitting on the beds. It was well into the afternoon and Dean's second beer by the time they had even the slightest lead on the spell, and that was simply the century it could have come from. They should have taken the bowl with them.

Dean sighed and yawned, less out of tiredness more irritation. San seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated as well, but as Dean glanced over to the beds, Jack didn't look annoyed or tired at all. He actually looked interested, like he was reading some good fairytale. Dean hesitated a moment and decided do something.

He got up and headed to where Jack was sitting. Sam looked up but didn't do much as he sat down.

“Hey, Jack?” He said, in a low voice. The room was bigger than they would usually have, so neither Sam nor Cas could hear much.

Jack looked up, almost startled. “Yes?”

Dean swallowed and looked over to the other bed. Cas was sitting, a book in his lap, focused on the pages. Dean gave a small smile. He teased Sam about how many books he had brought from the bunker to start with, but they didn't exactly belong in the useless category. There were things in those books no Internet search could find, so Dean quickly shut up.

He turned back to Jack. “How did you bring him back?” he asked, and didn't need to clarify who he meant.

Jack blinked. He wasn't sure how much Dean would want him to be jumping between realms. But he also knew how much Sam and Dean cared about the angel. Could it be really if he admitted it was him? Not that he needed to. Dean already seemed to know that part.

“I don't know. I just...kind of...went to him.” he stuttered.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Went to him? In the empty?”

Jack nodded. “I just wanted to help, to...have someone who doesn't want me dead,” Dean looked away at that. He knew Jack didn't mean the guilt trip, hell, he likely didn't even know what a guilt trip was, but it didn't help. “and I got him back.”

Dean looked at him. There was far too much of Lucifer in the kid for him to ignore, at least in his eyes. But that wasn't his fault. Dean just...couldn't not see it, even if there was nothing obviously similar between them. Even his eyes were more similar to Cas’ than Lucifer’s. But even so, he brought him back.

“Look, Jack. I know I've been hard on you, but...thanks.” He said.

Jack actually looked quite surprised. He visibly relaxed and smiled, almost shyly as if not wanting to show he was happy, but it shown through. Dean was incredibly conflicted. Despite his earlier thoughts, it was often hard to not think about him just being a kid.

“Dean!” he heard an urgent whisper and looked up to find Sam gesturing to him. He rolled his eyes and got up off the bed.

“Really subtle, Sammy.” he said as he got to the table.

“Yeah, well, I think I found something.” He said. “Look at this.”

Sam flipped the book he was reading around so Dean could read it. Once he looked over the page, he furrowed his eyebrows and looked up.

“Why the hell are you ready Nephilim lore?”

“Because I had a thought.” Sam said simply. “Look, Nephilim naturally have their own bodies, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So they can't possess people like angels can. However, according to this, they do have mind control powers.”

Cas had looked up at the word angels, and was listening to what they were saying.

“Mind control? What does that have to do with anything?”

Dean already knew where Sam was going. What he didn't know was how. How had he gone from researching the spell to Nephilim theology?

“Think about it. When angels possess someone, they basically have control over their body, their mind. They can heal the person, they can control them, anything. The problem is, it isn't the person making the actual decision.”

“Okay, English.” Dean said after a while. He had no idea what he was saying.

“A spell like this is basically connecting their consciousness. It's a form of possession, by the other person. What we want is to break that connection. So, if we got through to Kylie, talk to her…”

“We could convince her to break the connection.” Dean said, finally catching on.

“It's like forcing a spirit out with rock salt.”

Dean nodded, but then frowned. He understood the premise, but it still didn't make much sense to him what Sam was reading.

“Hold on. What does this have to do with Jack.”

“Nephilim can supposedly enter somebody’s mind. Talk to coma patients, stroke victims, stuff like that. He can talk to her.”

“No.” They both heard from behind them and turned around to find Cas standing there. “You're not using him.”

Sam sighed. He knew how he must feel. To be back and already having someone he cares about thrown into something like this. He stood up and walked to him.

“Cas, what would you suggest?”

“I can try.” he offered. “I am an angel.”

“Cas, they're under a strong spell. Jack is far more powerful.”

“Exactly.” Cas said, getting angrier. “He's strong and he can't control it yet. It isn't just him I'm worried about. What about if something goes wrong? What about the girl?”

Dean seemed to be trapped in some sort of a verbal piggy in the middle, someone waiting on in him to jump in for either side. He didn't really know what side to take. Both had valid points, and a girl's life was at risk either way. Thankfully, he didn't need to say anything.

“I want to help.” apparently, the argument was too loud for Jack to miss. “Whatever it is, I'll help.”

“Jack, are you sure?” Sam asked. Despite it being his idea, all of them knew he would never force him into anything.

But he needn't have worried. Jack quickly agreed and Cas eventually stopped protesting.

“Okay, now that's settled, here's the next question.” Dean said once the dust settled. “How the hell do we do that?”


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is a sweetie. Not much of a summary, but it's the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I started this 4 months ago. 4 months for 4 chapters. Good god. Sorry, I tend to start other projects before finishing old ones, and this is the result. I really hope you enjoy.

Jack was sitting on the bed next to Kylie. She was so small. Couldn't have been any older than 11 or 12, probably younger. The thing that was freaky was that she looked incredibly well cared for. Well fed, healthy, the only scratch visible on her was the one peeking out from under her hair where Sam knocked out her mum. How could somebody who took such good care of her child also be the one to land her in some kind of Supernatural coma?

“Okay, Jack. You ready?”

Jack looked up to Sam and tried to hide how nervous he was. He has never before had someone's life in his hands, not this way anyway.

Gradually, he placed his hand lightly room the girl’s temple and tried to do what he was supposed to. The only problem, he had no idea what he was doing. He flashed his eyes without even realising it, and tried to focus.

No one in the room spoke. All three of them had an underlying thought that they should stop it, but he already started. Stopping it could cause complications.

Jack tried to search, find an opening. He closed his eyes and tried to find what he needed. That's when an image of Kylie and her friends playing in the playground flashed in front of his eyes, and he gasped. It was gone in the next minute. He didn't know what Sam, Dean, or Cas were doing, but didn't look. He tried to shove any visions that flashed in front of him away. They were memories. And not his to see.

He heard some murmurs from the other 3 but ignored them and dug deeper. It slowly became easier, actually. It was no longer like pushing a boulder up a hill, it became like just walking up, then trying to open a stuck door, and eventually, it was just like walking through a gate. And he could feel it. He was in. He opened his eyes, but he was no longer in the motel room. He was standing in a much neater version of the room that belonged to her. Where they were earlier, and Kylie was sitting on her bed, watching a TV in the corner of the room. Jack never noticed that before.

He took a step forward and it didn't make a sound. It was oddly peaceful. He walked right up to the edge of the bed before doing or saying anything.

“Hello.”

The little girl looked up, confused but not scared. “Who are you?”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The motel room was incredibly tense, filled with unanswered questions. Nothing strange...r had happened since Jack started his attempt, but that didn't make it less unnerving.

“This was a bad idea.” Dean said.

“Come on, Dean. Not now. Do you seriously still not trust him?” Sam asked.

Dean understood why he asked that, but in reality, it wasn't anything to do with that. Not anymore.

“Look, he's a good kid, okay?” he said. “But he is a kid, he doesn't know what he's doing. I'm just worried.”

“Well, there's not much more we can do now. To far in.” Cas said, but he sounded worried as well.

It almost became awkward. They were all crowded around, while Jack performed some kind of paranormal lobotomy. Hopefully everything was going well.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Who are you?” Kylie asked again.

It was incredibly weird. Jack knew this wasn't the real world, nor a dream, but it was so vivid.

“My name is Jack.” he said.

“Jack?” Kylie asked and he nodded. “Your my mum’s friend, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

Taking that as a cue, Jack sat down. “I came here to talk to you.”

“About what.”

Good question. What was he to say? This wasn't a conversation he learnt while trying to talk to real, normal people. He just wanted to learn to be a person as much as he could, but maybe he should have thought about stranger situations as well.

“Do you realise you aren't awake?” he said softly.

She frowned and shook her head.

“You need to wake up.”

“But...this is my room. I'm here.” she half asked, confused.

“You know, your mum…” he stopped. What could he say? “Do you believe in magic?”

“I was worried about monsters once.Mummy said monsters and magic is nothing to be scared of.”

“Don't worry.” Jack reassured kindly. It was hard enough room talk to people in the real world. What about there. “There's nothing to be scared of. But I do need your help.”

“What?” she asked, slightly worried.

Jack stopped to think. He needed to say the right thing here. He couldn't mess this up. He tried to think what to do, and then he got it. If she woke up, could that break the connection? Because he had woken someone up before. Someone who was dead. This ought to be simpler.

“Do you think you could come with me?”

“Where?”

“I want to take you back to your mum.” he said, thinking on his feet. He held out his hand to her and after a minute, she grabbed it. “Come on. I want to help.”

Jack got up and pulled her hand lightly.She got off the bed but didn't move from it. Just stood at the end of it, eyes scared and curious.

“My mum told me not to talk to strangers.”

Jack thought for a second and smiled. “I knew your mum. She asked me to get you.”

She looked up and met his eyes. He was tall as an average, but even more so compared to her. She started walking again, falling in step with him.

Back in the motel room, Jack was completely in trance. He was living more in the dream world than the real one. But he woke up slightly. He needed to. He needed to figure out how to get her into the real world, how to drag her away. But it wasn’t hard. He started slowly feeling a bigger pressure on his chest, a harder push. He tried to resist, but couldn’t help gasping.

Dean frowned. “What’s going on?”

“I have no idea.” Sam said, but trailed off as the lights started flickering in the room. “Crap.”

“We need to stop this. Now.” Dean said, taking a step closer, but Cas caught his arm.

“We can't!”

Dean froze, shocked. “You were the one trying to discourage us from doing this.”

“Yes, but you did it anyway.” Cas said, loud enough to sound over the static in the room. “I know more about angels and Nephilim than you, if we stop it now, we'd be putting all three of them in danger.”

“Three of them?”

“The girl is still connected to the mother.” he explained. “If we interrupted now, three people could get hurt. We wait.”

Dean scowled but, backed off. They all stared, hoping the lights wouldn’t all blow out, waiting for Jack to stop, or help, or anything. They waited. And waited. And waited.

And then his eyes flashed yellow as he snapped them open. He gasped as of he had just been drowning, and pulled his hand away from the Kylie’s head, who sat up as quick as lightning as soon as his hands were away. Exactly at the same time as her mum.

“Dean, I've got her. You go to her mum.”

Sam rushed over to Kylie to check her over. She seemed amazingly shaken. The poor girl. Without turning around, Sam could hear the yells from across the room.

“Leave her alone!”

“Mum!” Kylie yelled back.

“We're not going to hurt her okay.” Sam heard Dean say.

“He is hurting my mum!” Kylie cried. Sam frowned and turned, holding onto the squirming bundle in his arms.

Dean was kneeling over her body, one leg on either side of her hips, pushing her down with one hand. The other hand, which was free, was pointing a gun at her head.

“Dean!”

“Did it work?” Dean asked, looking at Jack.

“I...I think so.”

Dean put down his gun and reached into his pocket. “Well, there's one way to be sure.” he said as he pulled out a knife.

Pressing his knee to her chest to make sure she couldn't get up, Dean grabbed the back of her palm and pulled her hand towards him. He turned it over and, careful to not do anything to harsh in case it didn't work, cut a thin line along her palm.

And Kylie cried out.

“Damn it, so it didn't work.”

“I think she's crying because you just attacked her mum, Dean!” Sam yelled furious.

Dean froze and looked around. All eyes were on him, critically reviewing him. He was almost choking Julie. That was not exactly his intent.

“Oh.” he said, and put his knife away, calming down slightly. “So it did work?”

“Yes, her hand is clean. But Dean” Sam cut off before he could do anything. “think about what you're doing.”

Dean loosened his grip but didn't relent, his knee once again by her side. What was he doing? He sometimes got carried away with the job, but he always got more on edge when kids were involved. When they could get hurt. He wasn't going to shoot her in front of her child, was he?

“Mum!” Kylie yelled, and leaped out of Sam’s arms, running over to where Dean was and leaning across her chest.

Dean didn't know what to think. It was a defensive stance. This little girl threw herself in dangers way to protect her mother.

“Cas, do you think if I got off her, you could make sure she didn't run away?” Dean said blankly.

“I don't think you need to be an angel for that. Yes, I can.”

“Great.”

He climbed off of her and allowed her to sit up and hug her daughter. This seen was so oddly familiar, and he didn't even know what from. It was so loving and caring but how is that possible, when she had basically almost killed her daughter. A million thoughts were going through his mind. Mostly, what am I going to do?

Kylie climbed off her mum and she attempted to stand up, but Dean put his hand up.

“You aren't going anywhere.”

“I'm not trying to.” she said, and then looked at her child. “Please. I just want to raise my daughter. I'm not here to hurt anyone.”

“But you did.” Sam said. “Those two men. They were people.”

“The vampires and ghosts you kill were once people too.” She said. “Witches are still people. You think of us as some kind of monster, centuries old crows. I was born in 1980. We aren't all monsters who need to be killed off. I am just a mother.”

What was there to say to that? She was.

“Why did you become a witch, if not to hurt people.”

“My babysitter was one.” she explained. “She taught me. She never taught me to hurt people, and I would never do so cold heartedly.”

“But you did.” Dean said, seriously. “Those two men. They had families too. One of then had a child. Why are they any less important than you?”

“Have you ever lost a child?”

That was a very interesting question. Mostly, because the answer was yes. Also because he understood what she was getting at. He never mentioned this, but it hurt Dean when Emma died. He didn't exactly mourn her, he didn't know her, but there was always an instinct in him that said otherwise. It was stupid and he knew that, but it was the case.

“All I wanted was to protect her. They didn't allow me to. They wanted to hurt her.”

“But you joined your lives together. Isn't that dangerous?”

Kylie was cowering against the bed. She was still in her pajamas, her hair now a mess. She was petrified, and Jack noticed this. While everyone was distracted, he went over to her. He didn't know what he would say, but he just wanted to calm her down. She was crying her eyes out.

“Hey. It's okay.” he said. “You'll be fine.”

She looked up, blinking tears out of her eyes. “And my mum?”

Jack sighed and looked back at the interactions.

“I couldn't live without her, and I couldn't make her live without me.”

“So you out your own daughter at risk?”

“She was only at risk if you decided to hurt her.” She said, desperately. “Look, if you want to...do it if you want. But please, I just want to raise her. Not hurt people. Just think, how much would you be willing to do for someone you love.”

Dean hesitated. Admittedly, he would do anything. Murder, sacrifice, anything at all. But still, he slowly pulled his gun out. He held it up to her head, and surprisingly, she didn't retreat. She didn't flinch, just stared fixedly at a point across the room. She didn't seem scared, she seemed sad. Dean frowned and followed her eyes and inadvertently lowered the gun.

She wasn't looking at a spot. She was looking at her daughter, practically hugging Jack. Whimpering by the wall at the top of the bed. She was so young and scared. And now, she already had her life screwed up.

The gun shook in his hand, and he looked over to Sam and then Cas. Sam could tell what he was thinking, and Cas should what he was. He swallowed, the gun still halfway to her head. He head it back up for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and putting it down completely.

“Go.” he said simply.

Julie sighed in relief and ran over to grab her daughter. They were both visibly shaking, and all of them felt kind of bad.

“Hey.” Dean called when they were by the door. “Keep your promise. Don't hurt anyone. We're always here.”

She opened her mouth to seemingly say something, but seemed to decide against it and just nodded, rushing themselves along the corridor.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Back at the bunker, it was a very interesting atmosphere. Interesting because the hunt was very anti-climactic, but still one of the strangest they've done together. They've hunted witches, of course, but firstly not with Jack, secondly not like this. But it was even more interesting because they were together. No one would have expected that.

That was the reason Dean couldn't sleep, and decided to go to the kitchen. However, he was instead distracted by something. Where was Cas?

He didn't sleep, so he wouldn't be in his bed. Normally he wouldn't have cared, he could have waited till morning, but he hadn't really talked to him yet. He was so upset that he let himself die, that was the focus of their conversation. He needed to see him.

So, he went up to the war room. Lucky guess, he thought, considering Cas was indeed sitting by the table, all angely and straight faced, for no real reason. Dean let out a soft laugh and sat down opposite him.

“Hey, buddy. What's up?”

“Hello, Dean.” he responded, coupled with a small smile. “Why aren't you sleeping?”

“I couldn't. A lot has happened.” he said.

“Agreed.”

“So, you okay? Being alive again and all?”

God, he sometimes missed conversations that weren't about death or resurrection. The Winchester lifestyle sure had its strange moments.

“Are you okay with me being back?”

Dean was quite caught off guard by that. Yeah, his reaction when he first saw him may not have been the best, but surely it wasn't that bad? Surely he didn't actually think he didn't want him back?

“Cas, of course. Why wouldn't I?”

“No reason.” he said, but Dean could tell he was hiding something.

“Okay, what is it?”

“What?”

“Look, buddy, I've known you a long time. Okay?” he said, as if it was self explanatory. “I can tell you're lying. Why did you think I wouldn't want you back.”

Cas looked up, and somehow his blue eyes still kept their colour in the dark. 

“When I was in the empty, there was this...entity.”

Dean frowned, actually intrigued. “What, you weren't alone?”

He shook his head. “It looked like me. Well, Jimmy.” he continued. “He told me I shouldn't come back because you didn't need me.”

Part of Dean wanted to get angry. He had no idea about what happened their, but it sounded like whatever that creature was, was trying to stop Cas from coming back. He wanted to yell and reassure him. However, for some reason he decided on a different approach.

“It was right.” he said, and Cas looked up, wide eyed. “We don't need you. Maybe once we did, but we can take care of ourselves now.”

Cas looked heartbroken. He looked down at his hands on the desk and swallowed.

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

“Don't be.” he said, angry at himself for the pained expression on his friend’s face. “Because that doesn't mean we don't want you here.”

At that, Cas looked up and seemed less upset and more confused. He tipped his head to the side and squinted. So Dean went on.

“We have needed a lot of help over the years, from all sorts of creatures. Hell, we once asked for Lucifer’s help.” he said, half laughing. “We kept them close, kept them alive, because we needed them. We needed their help. That was an easy choice. But we don't want you here because we need you, or because we want to use you. We want you here because your our family. Mine, Sam’s, Jack’s. So yeah, he wasn't lying. We don't need you to stay. We want you to stay.”

Cas had no idea what to say. Sure, he had hoped for this to be true, but it has never been so plainly laid out. He has had people tell him they were just calling him if they needed him, to use him. But even after everything, Sam and Dean’s words meant far more to him than anyone else's.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah don't mention it.” he said, and Cas smiled, knowing he was embarrassed. “Okay, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow.” he said and affectionately grabbed Cas’ shoulder as he left the room.

“See you later, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have a very different ending, but considering the season had alead you aired the first half, I decided to accommodate as much of the Canon into this as possibly, and my original one would have been very different. I hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I will definitely continue this, whether you like it or not (sorry), but it’s already so long I thought I’d leave it here for now. I also wrote this on the solar eclipse an wanted to post it due to my timing actually being pretty spot on with the whisper, which I really didn’t plan but hey, worked out for the best. Thanks for reading and (hopefully) enjoying.


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